


You And Me Against The World

by veritas_st



Series: Nua Aimsiu [3]
Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 23:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritas_st/pseuds/veritas_st
Summary: Can be read as a standalone but is part of the Nua Aimsiu verse.





	You And Me Against The World

“We're under attack Conn.” Murphy pulls Connor down to the floor as soon as he steps through the door, hands all over him, fingers clutching. Connor can't help but go along with it, arching slightly as Murphy's body touches his.

“Jesus Murph, what?” He feels rather than hears Murphy chuckle against his neck, on account of his heart beating rather too loudly in his ear at the feel of Murphy's comforting weight on him.

“Lord's name Conn. And I said, we're under attack. You have to stay down.” Murphy pulls back enough to look at him, face full of childish glee that makes Connor grin back. Murphy's grin vanishes, false worry and sincerity replacing it in an instant. He rolls off Connor onto his stomach. Taking up the position that makes him look like he's a sniper, hiding in bushes waiting for his quarry. Connor can't help but laugh and Murphy shoots him a deadly look.

“Its no laughing matter, Conn. We're cut off.” Murphy caterpillar crawls round and behind the couch, Connor can see sheets thrown over it.

Connor smiles indulgently, even though Murphy is now muttering about possibly having to resort to cannibalism and isn't looking at him. He loves Murphy when he's like this. Loves Murphy no matter what, but the childish games that Murphy still insists on playing every now and then make him love him all the more. Its a throwback from their childhood where Murphy's imagination would take them away from the dank tiny house they lived in, the mean streets and the lack of a father, catapult them into foreign lands where they were marauding pirates pillaging maidens, noble knights saving damsels, anything other than twins stuck in their bedroom in Ireland.

Murphy sticks his head out from behind the couch that's pushed nearly up to the wall, hair sticking up all over the place.

“Conn...get under cover would you? You are a sitting duck out there.” His head disappears and Connor rolls his eyes, but crawls over to the couch where Murphy grabs his arm and hauls him into the makeshift shelter.

“Nice fort.” He says as Murphy runs a hand through his hair and looks around. His smile is soft and warm when he turns it on Connor.

“Thanks. Took me fuckin' hours.” He says, back to himself as he crosses his legs under him and pulls out a cigarette. He lights one and takes a drag, pulling the smoke into his lungs and Connor licks his lips. Murphy has no idea what he does to Connor, the simple gestures, the nervous ticks, the easy smiles and habit he has of touching Connor all the time, drive Connor crazy, make him want to strip his brother naked and bring him to his knees whenever he does any of them, Connor's had to exercise some serious self discipline since they started whatever the hell you would call the hell they are doing now. _Fucking_ doesn't cut it, its more than that, its not _making love_ , the thought makes Connor want to vomit. Its just them and Connor is slowly coming to terms with how normal it feels. 

“So...we're safe. Now what?” Connor asks. Murphy stubs the cigarette out in the ash tray, and pushes a bottle of whiskey into Connor's hands. Trust Murphy to think of the important things when building a fort out of sheets. 

“I say we get drunk and repopulate the human race.” Murphy grins as Connor chokes on the whiskey, the comforting burning of it going down his throat. Murphy leans forward and licks a drop of Connor's chin. Connor captures his mouth and kisses him hard, taste Murphy, cigarettes and whiskey. 

“You do realise that we can't repopulate anything?” Connor asks. Murphy doesn't answer, just pushes Connor down flat, body pressing into his again. Connor squirms, grins as Murphy's eyes flutter closed for a second. 

“Fine,” Says Murphy, pulling off him and grabbing the whiskey. “How about we just get drunk and have survivor sex then?” He says. 

“Good idea. Come here, you fuckin' eejit.” Murphy lets out a laugh as he crawls over to Connor, eyes going dark and he gets closer and Connor can't get enough of Murphy. Not when the look on his face is so deliciously sinful, not when the ouch of his skin against Connor's makes him want to stop time and just _be_. He has a sneaking suspicion that maybe Murphy is starting to get that though, hence the fort, the shelter, their own private sanctuary against a world who would think that was wrong. 

Murphy kisses him then, and its not wrong. It's so right that it makes Connor forget everything and just kiss him back, hands carding through Murphy's unruly hair, grabbing a handful at the back of Murphy's neck and pulling, latching his mouth onto Murphy's throat, nipping at his brothers pulse, feels it trip hammer under his tongue. 

Connor takes his time stripping Murphy, enjoys watching as inch by inch his brothers skin is revealed, enjoys the look on Murphy's face, the way Murphy fights against the urge to tell Connor to hurry up, the noises that Murphy makes when Connor's fingers skim over sensitive places that only Connor knows. Connor's achingly hard by the time Murphy's naked and he makes to pull Connor down, lifts his hands and Connor bats them away. 

“Deplacer n'avez.” _Don't move_. Murphy immediately complies, lying still, sweat glistening on his chest, fingers twitching in an effort to keep from moving. Connor straddles him, thighs pressing into Murphy sides, the heat of Murphy's skin leeching through his jeans. He leans down and licks Murphy's skin. Murphy sighs and Connor feels his arm move. He pushes it back, presses it into the blankets laid on the floor. “I said, don't move.” Murphy swallows and Connor follows the movement with his mouth.

“Who made you leader?” Murphy asks, amusement and lust tinting his words. Connor laughs and pulls back. 

“You did.” The amusement dies in Murphy's eyes, leaving only lust. It still surprises Connor how much they both need this. How they both need the give and take that only the other can give them. And it surprises Connor how Murphy responds to it. Makes his eyes go wide, his breathing hitch, his hips twitch almost by their own volition. 

There's no more talking after that. Murphy shuts up, doesn't move as Connor makes his way down, pausing at the dip of his bellybutton, the sharp lines of his hip bones. Doesn't move as Connor wraps his lips around Murphy's cock and swallows him down. Murphy lets out a sound like he's dying though, Connor didn't tell him not to make a sound. Connor watches as Murphy's hands fist in the blankets, knuckles going white as Connor hums around him then swallows. 

He pulls off as he feels Murphy's muscles twitching, pulls off and grins at the whimper from his brother, then the groan as Connor wraps his hand around him and twists once, come spilling onto his hand. Murphy still doesn't move, sweat breaking out on his forehead, chest, pooling at the base of his throat at the effort. Connor uses his brother come to slick his fingers, pushes two of them into Murphy as Murphy is still trying to get his breath back. 

Murphy can't help but move then, body arching off the floor as Connor twists his fingers, hooks them and Murphy practically bites through his lip as he gets himself under control and stills again. 

“Good boy.” Connor murmurs and Murphy's eyes slide shut. Connor leans down and kisses him again. The smell of arousal and taste of Murphy makes Connor light headed as he uses the rest of Murphy's come, slicks himself up and slides into his brother. Murphy lets himself be manhandled into position, a whimper escaping his throat again as Connor slides in deep and hits home. 

“Move Murph.” He grates out into Murphy's ear and Murphy does. Wraps his legs round Connor's hips, pulls him in deeper, digs his fingers into Connor's shoulders. 

It doesn't take long, the sight of his brother enough to make Connor come in his pants like a teenager at the best of times, he pushes in only once, twice before he's coming hard. He lets himself collapse onto Murphy, lets himself be wrapped in Murphy's lean arms. 

Its while before Connor moves, pulls out of Murphy. Murphy winces slightly and it shouldn't but it makes Connor's cock twitch. Murphy grins and grabs the cigarettes, lights one and pushes it into Connor's mouth. Connor lies back, stares at the makeshift ceiling of their sanctuary and takes a drag, smoke tightening his chest as Murphy fingers the tattoo on his neck. 

“Its a good fort Murph.” He says. Murphy chuckles, fingers running down Connor's arm. 

“We have to check the perimeter. The bastards could have got closer.” He says and makes to leave, Connor entwines their fingers and tugs, Murphy stops and lies down next to him, pressing himself close to Connor, throwing a leg over Connor's thigh. 

“Later Murph.” He says as Murphy wriggles closer and covers Connor's nipple with his mouth. Connor clutches at his hair. Murphy pulls away and grins down at Connor. 

“We need to do some more repopulatin'?” He asks. Connor laughs and pulls him down, presses him into the blankets. 

“Love you.” They both freeze. They've said it before. Countless times, but not since this started and Connor doesn't know what he means by that, doesn't know how to explain what that means to him now. Murphy is the first to recover though, wriggling, lewd grin plastered on his face. 

“You better.” He says, wrapping his legs around Connor again, kisses him, pushing his tongue in Connor's mouth, he pulls back, eyes heavy and grins again. “Now get with the repopulatin' Cock Sucker.”


End file.
